


All Hallows Eve

by DenseHumboldt



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternative Universe - Incubus, Dream Sex, F/M, Ghosts, Halloween, Mildly Dubious Consent, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Prompt Fill, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-07 22:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenseHumboldt/pseuds/DenseHumboldt
Summary: Collection of Spooky Yonvers for Halloween 2019Prompts taken from tumblrPart 1 IncubusPart 2 WitchesPart 3 Witches Part 2Part 4 Ghosts





	1. To Lie Upon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrotesqueEnchantment](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrotesqueEnchantment/gifts), [teruel_a_witch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teruel_a_witch/gifts), [Ilya_Boltagon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilya_Boltagon/gifts).

> Let's start it off weird!
> 
> I am doing this as a collection so my number of works doesn't get ridiculous lol
> 
> Prompt box is open for your spooky suggestions until Oct. 31
> 
> ❤💚💜💙DH

There was a weight on her chest. Since the accident it had been pressing down on her sternum. It never eased. Always pressing down and pressing out. It felt as if she had swallowed a smooth stone or the force of the blast had driven some hereto unknown cartilage into her esophagus. When she lay on her side it rolled beneath her ribcage and when she rolled onto her back it rolled down to her stomach. Sometimes if she propped herself up on her elbows and sucked in her bellybutton she could make it roll all the way down to between her hips. It felt warmer there, welcome pressure that if she rocked the right way it could almost give way to relief.

She couldn't describe this symptom to a doctor. Tightness of breath was a symptom; bad thoughts, paranoia, anxiety these were things doctors had opinions on. A phantom weight. A fixation on a foreign heaviness. These were not real symptoms.

In a way, it was the only thing that made her feel real. The days spent in the military hospital did not feel real. She did not think she could identify a single doctor or nurse. Their faces did not stick in her mind. If she pictured their prodding and taking blood they were all faceless voids. There must be other patients but she avoided them. She wandered down halls. She saw shadows crossing the curtained screens and heard televisions. She could smell antiseptic and on occasion human smells but she hid in stairwells if she thought someone was coming.

She didn't want to talk anymore. Talking made her feel hoarse. Explaining she didn't remember, that she didn't know where Lawson was, that she didn't know what made the engine blow, ached before she said a single word. Thinking of it made her throat contract and sting, like holding back a sob or swallowing too much honey.

At night, she slept and she dreamed of the weight moving around her body. It began in her chest and squeezed up her throat, bobbing on her tongue, and making her lips feel tight. Then she would swallow it again. Her chest ached when it returned. Her breasts were tender even as her body had the weightlessness of a dream. Only the invisible stone was real. She was aware that she could not open her eyes or move her limbs. She was aware she was dreaming. That she didn't need to breathe in a dream but if she did she could make the stone bob through the passages of her body. That the expanding of her chest awoke sensation against her skin. That her clothes could almost be a caress, except her pajamas were not the ones she remembered. Even though she couldn't see them she knew they were different. Some erotic spark in her mind had wrapped her in silk. Silk that could feel hot then cold. Wet as if a tongue licked her and breath huffed against her tender parts. If she begged her mind for it and gasped hard enough she could force the stone to slip downwards. To the sensitive arches of her feet and soft backs of her knees before at last it found the place between her thighs. She must have tensed in her sleep because even in her dream her spine was pins and needles. Hot static that opened her and rocked against her. Pleasure building like a sob. She wanted it so badly and the weight asked if she was sure? Her mind checked over and over, would you like to wake up now?

_No_, she thought over and over. _No, I want to stay here. Keep me here._ She wanted to stay where everything was darkness and sensation. Where orgasm built like pin pricks over her tight stomach. Her tailbone rolled so hard into the mattress she was numb with waiting for release that never came.

She woke up desperate to know what would please it. What would make it give her what she craved. By the time the lights in the hospital came back on it had returned to her chest and she could not convince it to be other than it was.

They were back in the little room. The room that had a doctor's bench and three small chairs. She sat on the bench, her hospital gown too thin, her body prickly beneath it. Her vein was sore where they kept taking blood. More tests but never more answers. Her feet were warm at least. She had on big woolly socks that itched and scratched together when her ankles touched. Catepillar legs that stuck like burrs.

"I am surprised I have any blood left," she commented to the doctor as they taped a cotton ball to her arm. It itched too. The doctor smiled.

Had she seen them before?

"I promise we won't take it all," they said but the number of vials that rattled in the rack made her skin feel cold and her stomach do small flips.

"Lawson's work," the agent sitting across from her started again.

How long had they been having this conversation?

"She was developing a hyperspeed engine," she said.

How many times had she said it?

"Did you ever meet her associates? The ones she was building the engine for?" Another agent asked.

"The military?" She asked, she never understood this question when they asked it.

Had they asked it before?

* * *

That night when the weight begins to move she opens her eyes. Normally she can't. Her body is always frozen in place. It scares her as she feels the weight pause and hover. She feels it tense around her lungs until she can't breathe. She wonders if it wants her to pass out.

Is tonight the night it kills her?

All she can see is the ceiling. She can't move her neck or tilt her chin. The thought of doing it makes her muscles burn. Burn and tingle. The tingling is the worst because she knows it hurts. She knows it is pain that glitters behind her eyeballs and at the back of her throat. It hurts more than anything should but she wants it. She wants it so badly. She wants it to stop and she wants it to last forever. Almost as if she could endure it long enough it would break into pleasure. The prelude to orgasm.

The pain hooks under her ribs for a moment, jerking her upwards towards the ceiling. Pain that tastes the way snow smells. Then she feels something kneeling on her chest. Lowering her to the mattress. The weight is outside her body and it is crushing her down.

She thinks she wants it to end here.

"Please, just break me," she whispers to it.

Then it stops and she wakes up when the light comes on.

* * *

She was trying to remember the last time she had heard her name. She was sitting on the bed, the bed in her private room. She never questioned why she was the only one with a private room.

Should she question it? If they wanted to make her disappear no one would be able to say if she had been there or not.

She shook her head. The seclusion was getting to her. Making her paranoid. She wondered why she had had no visitors. Were the agents keeping them away or did no one care?

She traced her sock feet over the seams in the vinyl tile. Straightlines followed by a little figure eight twirl. The ending and the beginning meeting over and over.

Something made her look up. Had she heard a sound? She didn't remember a sound. She didn't remember deciding to sit on the bed or picking these socks. She didn't remember anything and she definitely did not remember his face.

And she would have. She was certain she would because no one had eyes that colour.

"Are you a doctor?" She asked bluntly. She didn't want to talk to a doctor.

"Do I look like a doctor?" He smiled at her and she blinked to bring him in to focus. He was wearing dark corduroy pants and a navy sweater. The deep vee showed a little bit of white from the shirt beneath.

"You look like a shrink," she answered quirking an eyebrow at him.

"A what?" He tucked his hands in his pockets and smiled aimably.

"You know, 'go get your head shrunk'? You look like a shrink."

"I am afraid you have lost me," he took a step closer and she flinched. "What's your name?"

"None of your business," she said sweetly.

"I can find out," his voice had the low melody of an almost threat. He started to walk to the end of the bed to read her chart. She scrambled over the sheets and slapped her hand against the metal clipboard. He crouched and brushed his fingers over hers. He traced between them slowly coaxing them apart. It was more tenderness than she had had in weeks. Something quivered in her even as she tensed her fingers and refused to give him more.

"Hello Vers," he said kindly. She snorted at him. That wasn't her name.

Was it?

"Aren't you lonely here?" He asked drifted around her room.

"Sometimes I go for walks."

"Then aren't you lonely out there?" He asked nodding to the hall. She almost smiled.

"Only shrinks care if people are lonely," she observed with a tilt of her head. Her lips pursed and she wondered what he would say.

"Then I don't care. I only wanted to talk to you."

She was suspicious again. "Why?"

"Maybe I want to take my mind off things?" His hands were in his pockets again. Vers felt a small tingle of guilt. This was a hospital after all. Maybe something bad had happened? He walked to the end of the bed and leaned over the footboard. He had a charm to him. And irresistible warmth. She realized she didn't want him to leave. "Will you walk with me?"

"Maybe I am too sick to walk," she answered him. He looked at her.

"You will be fine, but you can hold onto my arm if you feel weak."

She laughed. She took his arm to mock him she told herself.

They made a loop around the floor of the hospital. The same beds, the same shadows, the same smells. He didn't ask her questions and she felt relieved. They stopped when they reached her door again.

"Was that less lonely?" He asked looking down at her on his arm.

"It was the most excitment I have had in awhile," she let go of him but she didn't want to. "I will dream about it tonight."

"Will you dream about me?" He teased her. She liked the way he teased. She liked the way his voice was deep and soft "Will you invite me into your dreams?"

"Because you didn't try and shrink my head, I will let you be in my dreams."

"That is a deal, Vers."

He extended his hand to her and she shook it. It was warmer than his arm and left tingling beneath her skin.

She did dream of him that night. She dreamt she woke up and he was there in the bed beside her. His yellow eyes glowed and she felt she could not look away from them. They caught the light the way a dog's eyes did but she wasn't scared.

"You wanted to please me?" He asked rolling over top of her, weighing her down.

"Back up, when did I say that?" She swallowed as her throat tightened.

"You say it every night, Vers" he whispered. He brushed his lips over hers, "I hear you."

"I would remember if I had an audience," she protested as he lifted her hands to his shirt. She was unbuttoning him without hesitation. Her hands did not consult her as they fumbled with the small dull pearls like teeth.

"What would be the point if you could see me?" He asked as she spread her hands over his bare chest. The hard planes beneath thick hair. He was so soft to touch and hot. She had forgotten how cold it could be here. She moved her hands up and down his chest. Each dip of muscle fascinated her.

"Am I not meant to see you?" She asked. He was hypnotizing her and confusing her.

"I was waiting to be invited. Didn't I tease you long enough? You have to ask me to take you." He was unbuttoning her pajamas now. Each button was followed by a kiss.

"Then you should have appeared from the beginning," she murmured running her fingers through his hair. He was very handsome.

"You have to ask for the fear to take you. I am not a kind visitor," he growled against the tight skin over her ribs. He dragged his teeth along them and she arched into the mattress.

"You don't seem so scary," she said. She clenched her knees as he dipped his tongue into her navel.

"We have only just begun," he answered her. "You will understand soon."

He slid his hands beneath her hips, tilting her so he could breathe hot air through the cotton. Vers clenched her teeth and her toes curled into the sheets.

"I really want to understand," she croaked around the tightness in her throat. He kissed his way back up her stomach and Vers wanted to box his ears for toying with her.

He was completely naked by the time he reached her mouth. She supposed that made sense as this was a dream. He kissed her, grinding their bodies together as he did. She could feel him heavy and stiff brushing her thigh. She wanted to reach for him but she couldn't move her hands. Only when he gave her permission, she thought.

"First, you need to accept that your old life is gone. Do you believe me that you are dead?" He spoke between kisses. Vers could feel the scratch of his chest hair against her breasts. She thought nothing had felt so real as his body. Maybe she was dead and this was Hell. As his hands gripped her hips and lined his body against hers, eternity of damnation didn't seem so bad. "Do you accept this?"

"I do," she nodded. It was a dream after all and he was so close to what she wanted. He entered her too quickly. A rush of fullness that she was helpless to stop as she did not have his permission to move.

"I can make something inside you," he grit his teeth and punctuated each word with a hard thrust. Her body no longer existed. She was static and a wave. When he rocked her all of her moved. There was no inside or outside anymore so it didn't matter. "If you give me everything I can make you great."

"Take it. If you can," Vers breathed into the sensation of him taking her harder. His yellow eyes watched her and she wondered what it was he could see as he obliterated her with each stroke of his body. He gently brushed her face and only when he touched her did her cheek exist.

"You're not scared," he said with wonder. His eyes searched hers. Vers gulped in air as she felt the rhythm shift. Slower, more purposeful. Pleasure like an unfurling leaf growing low in her body.

"I told you, you aren't scary," she breathed out as small convulsions rippled through her body. Clipping her words with small hiccoughs. She felt heat and damp. She felt him drift away. She felt like a lace left untied.

She had hoped he would come visit her again during daylight hours. He never did, but at night he was there. Reminding her everything was over. That nothing remained. That she was his.

He began to let her move. As she learned to dream of him, she learned to move in the dream.

He asked her over and over, "don't you want to please me?"

She did.

Some nights she would kneel in front of him. She was immaterial but he was so real as she choked around him. He had no taste or smell, he was pressure and heaviness. His hands clawed into her hair as she breathed him and took him. She wanted to please him. She wanted him to come every night. When he shuddered against her, swallowing felt like forgetting to swallow. Her helpless confused mind not able to make her body do what she wanted. He tipped her chin and saved her.

Morning hurt. They hurt her body and the growing emptiness inside her hurt.

They took more blood. They did more tests. Their questions stopped making sense and she had started to sob when they asked them.

"You're getting weaker. The radiation damaged you too badly," the doctors said shaking their heads.

"It's because you keep taking my blood," she cried at them. They were the ones killing her.

She was weaker and weaker. She no longer walked. Orderlies carried her to the little room then back again.

When the dreams came she couldn't move. Not just because she didn't have his permission but because she had no strength. She would lie still and when the time came she convulsed around the phantom weight. Then she collapsed like a wilted flower into the mattress. He became relentless. When he finished her with rocking he would immediately slip down her body. His mouth would be hot. It soothed even as it built her up again.

"I can't, I can't," she sobbed.

"You can," he murmured against her thigh. And she could.

She only knew she was dreaming because he was there. Waking had become another dream.

"You are killing me," she told him one night as he rolled her onto her stomach that wasn't her stomach. He lifted her onto knees that weren't knees.

"No, Vers," he said softly his fingers tracing her spine until she shivered. "I am remaking you."

* * *

The light against her eyelids was bright. Too bright to be what she couldn't remember. She groaned and the sound hurt but beyond the shield of her eyelids the world began to move. Her sound had woken something. She was on her side she realized. She tried to roll over and make the sound again. She was too weak.

Strong hands helped her and she managed to blink her eyes open. Everything was bright. Gold eyes were looking at her.

She tried to make a question but her tongue was too thick and stupid. Her eyes closed again.

"I need you to be calm," his voice rumbled in her like she had heard it before but she knew she hadn't. She was calm, she thought.

She was propped against pillows and a cup was placed in her hands but she was too weak to hold it and it began to tilt. His hands wrapped around hers so the cup stayed steady. She forced her head up to look at him. He looked rumpled and concerned.

"I'm sorry. I don't-"

"Be patient, Vers, we will make you strong again."

Vers. That was her name.


	2. Lie in the Meadow -Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompt: Witches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke the Prompt into a two parter  
Enjoy Part 1 and let me know what you think
> 
> 💙💜💚❤DH

Carol was lying on her roof. It was not a feat to get up there. Her cottage was small, on one side it slopped to the ground so low she could walk up the roof. Other things could walk up there as well. Once she had to chase a goat down before the villagers cried devil. She didn't want the poor thing pestered because frightened people saw demons and devils in the smallest things. Goose, her orange cat, was curled on her chest. She didn't think of Goose as her familiar. She had been her witch-mother Mar-Vell's familiar before she died. Carol had inherited her but she knew Goose thought of herself as a familiar. And a familiar needed a witch.

Carol stroked her as she looked up at sky. The clouds swirled grey and wet above. The ground had mist just above the grass. Cold air trapped and shimmering in the absence of sun. Her fire was smoking. She had let the wood get too wet and now the hearth was mad at her.

"It sure is gloomy out. As above, so below," she said thoughtlessly to her cat.

"A grand statement to remark on the weather," a voice called up to her. Carol sat up abruptly. Goose leaped off her chest with a dismissive flick of her tail.

Carol turned to see the great sorcerer Yon-Rogg standing in her garden.

"You aren't welcome here," she called down.

"I haven't come to see you," he answered with a shrug. He pulled a small coin from his cloak. Goose walked blithely down the sloping roof. Carol watched as she walked to Yon-Rogg and twined about his legs.

"Goose, stop it," she chastized. The man had killed Mar-Vell. Had struck her dead in their constant battle between the sides. It might be war but Carol took it personally.

Yon-Rogg lifted the coin in the air, held between two fingers. He flicked it and it began to spin. Carol tried to pretend she was not watching, but no one did spells amongst her cabbages without her permission. Yon-Rogg released the coin and it continued to hang in the air.

A beam of light shone on the ground, clearing a small puddle in the mist. Goose happily flopped into it. Yon-Rogg closed his cloak around him and began to leave.

"Is that all?" Carol stood on the roof as he meandered down the woodchip path. Her runner beans and clematis reached for him, tiny spindles holding him. Carol didn't tell them to do that. He smiled to himself as he brushed the baby green strings. They sadly untangled from the velvet and wool. He turned his head to look up at her on the roof.

"As you said it is a gloomy day. Our mutual friend needs sunbeams."

Carol took sliding steps down the roof, her linen pants flapping as she let the wind carry her to the path. She was careful not to step in his sunbeam.

"Talos brought her fish yesterday and Fury brought her feathers."

"Are you sad no one has brought you anything?" He leaned into her. Carol stepped back.

"I don't need anything, but you won't win her over."

Yon-Rogg tilted his head and looked at Goose stretching and rolling in the warm grass. He looked back at her with heavy meaning in his gold eyes.

"It seems I know what she needs more than the others," his voice was always like distant thunder. Comfortingly deep and she yearned for it to be closer. 

"She liked the fish. And the feathers," Carol crossed her arms. "And I like the ones who brought them. Unlike you."

"Treats and toys are fine for friends," he said softly taking a step towards her. "But warmth when it is cold. Light when it is dark. This is what all creatures need, Vers."

"Vers is not my name," she insisted taking a step back.

"It is the name you wrote in His Book," Yon-Rogg answered her. "Did you think you were tricking him? Did you think you would be able to stay Carol when he raised you again as Vers."

"You are the one who tricked me," she answered her throat tight with shame and rage. "You said I could bring her back if I wrote my name. You said every thing would be undone."

"No," he corrected. He tutted gently at her as if to calm a bird. "I said that your rage was useless without power. That power could only be given by the Supremor. That it was a gift in exchange for writing your name. You made assumptions."

"The Supremor cannot have me," Vers tilted her chin defiantly. "Mar-Vell broke free and I will too."

"Mar-Vell is dead. He sent me to kill her for taking ink from the book. And I will kill you too. If you don't give me the ink."

Carol clenched her teeth. Mar-Vell had awakened an ancient rebellion with her spell. She had drawn ink from the Supremor's book. She had taken back her name. And Talos'. And all of Talos' clan. She had freed them. Carol had tried once she realized Yon-Rogg's deception but she had been too weak. She had only drawn Eight letters. She could work in eights. Twelves were too many. Mar-Vell had died before Carol had learned to control her natural powers. 

"I don't know where it is," she said through gritted teeth. "And if I did I would never tell you."

"Bold words for so young a witch," Yon-Rogg said with a smile that showed his one pointed eye-tooth. The sorcerer's mark. The eyes had come as the magic filled him but he had been born with that tooth. He plucked a bristle from her cluster of tall grass. She snarled at the intrusion. He spun it in his fingers for a second. He brushed her sleeve with it gently. "Our time together was short but you learned so much. Did you think you could hide it from me?"

He pulled the stalk through his fist and it came out clean the other side. He turned his fist and Carol held out her hands instinctively. Small larvae fell when he opened his hand. By the time they reached Carol's palm they had grown into buzzing confused bees. She cupped her hand to keep them close to her. It was too cold for them.

"Those were so the Cooper's family could keep a hive," Carol growled. What would she do now? She tilted her hands and counted the bees. "You have stolen the queen."

Yon-Rogg held out his hand to show the queen squirming fatly in his palm. "The Coopers don't care about you, Vers. They take you for granted."

He plucked up the queen and placed it in the palm of her hand. He place the empty stalk across the squirming mass and closed her hands gently with his own. Carol swallowed as she felt the tingle of his power. His hands were warm on the cold day. His eyes burned into her even as she refused to look at him. When he released her hand the stalk was back. He lifted it and returned it whole to the grass.

"Somethings can be undone, Vers, others cannot," he said darkly not looking at her. As if the anger he felt was too much. "What passed between us cannot."

"I undid it," she said to him. She stepped backward letting her fingers brush the leaves of her garden. Speaking silently in a language that, for all his power, Yon-Rogg did not understand.

"You undid nothing. You stole something that will be returned."

"Or what?" She let the fire reach her eyes.

"The Supremor does not care we are knit together. Either we go back to him with the ink as one or I go back alone. And I will leave you as I left Mar-Vell. No matter how much it pains me."

"Leave," she said. It was stupid. She had been the one to delay him and now she wanted him gone already. Why could her heart and her feet never been in harmony? She wanted him to leavd as surely as her steps always followed him.

"You don't want me to leave," he took a step closer to her. She summoned her rake to her hands and held it across her body. He laughed at her. "I taught you better than this."

She called on all eight of the letters. She held them in her heart and felt them grow hot in her hands. She spun the handle so it pointed at him. She cried out as light burst from the end and he was blown back in a gust of wind and leaves. The gate opened for him and slammed shut behind him.

She stalked up the path stomping hard into the woodchips and fallen leaves. She looked over the gate at him where he lay on the path tangled in his cloak.

"You aren't my teacher anymore," she told him. He faded away as the protection spell healed around her. All she could see was the illusion of a serene rolling meadow even though he would be fuming just outside the fence. She felt a brushing between her legs and she looked down.

Goose had left her sun beam and was twirling around Carol's legs. She wasn't even a little ashamed. Carol scooped her up and held her close. Her fur was warm and smelled of violets. She nuzzled the cat and thought of how much she missed Mar-Vell.

"Don't let him in again," she whispered kissing the cat's head. "No matter how much you like his presents."


	3. The Meadow is a Lie - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the witch prompt!
> 
> Ghosts are next  
💙💜💚❤DH

Talos was pacing in front of her fire and it was making Carol dizzy. She sat on a low footstool with Goose in her lap. Fury was leaning against her desk and Soren was in Mar-Vell's arm chair. It matched Carol's footstool in the way everything else matched, that is to say not at all unless they fancied it.

Carol had made tea but Talos' and hers had gone cold. Carol's because Goose had jumped in her lap, Talos' because he was gesticulating so wildly his wife had relieved him of it. Fury was drinking his thoughtfully.

"What do you mean the animal let him in?" Talos demanded.

"Goose," Fury said quietly.

"What?" Talos asked turning to him.

"The cat has a name. It's Goose," Fury's voice was always a lake. Either smooth as glass or in short measured waves. A place stillness grew. He took a sip of his tea. "I suggest you use it."

"Yon-Rogg wants the ink back. He thinks I know where it is," Carol added. She reached for her tea and spun the mug three times. Steam rose from the surface. She lifted it up, her one hand still petting Goose who rolled onto her back.

"And do you?" Soren looked at her over the rim of her mug. Carol took a sip of her tea. It was fennel and made the tip of her tongue numb. So much was a blur following Mar-Vell's death. Carol's grief, Yon-Rogg's deception, the panicked after math of writing her name in the book. Maybe she did know but she had forgotten? She took another sip of tea. She let it warm her tongue and thought of harvesting the bulb from her garden. Cutting the feathery fat plant, heavy with water. She remembered the way it tickled her shoulders as she worked it free of the root. The smell of earth and licorice. Fennel called to other memories but could not tell her where Mar-Vell's ink was.

"No," she said at last. Goose meowed, resting a paw on Carol's hand as her pets stilled. She blinked at looked down at Goose. She started petting her again. Low purrs like unwinding clockwork filled the room.

"Was that all he wanted?" Fury asked.

"He brought Goose a gift," Carol shrugged. Goose's pupils widened and she leaned her head back.

"What? Why?" Fury asked.

"To get in the door," Talos answered him. He started pacing again. Carol didn't know how Soren kept her sanity. He was making her head hurt.

At that moment, the coin came bobbing through the air. It was barely two feet off the floor. Everyone's eyes were drawn to it and they fell silent. Goose rolled onto her side and scurried off Carol's lap. She walked towards the coin, her pupils wide and her tail lifted. She sat and looked at it for a moment.

"What's she doing?" Fury asked pointing at the cat even though they all watched her.

"I think it listens to her," Carol answered.

"What does it do?" Talos asked. Goose looked over her shoulder at him and Carol could have sworn he flinched. Goose raised up on her hind legs and batted the coin. It began to spin as it had in the garden. Sunlight pooled on the worn floorboards, Goose flopped happily into the beam.

"That is a good gift," Fury admitted.

"Goose likes it," Carol shrugged. She laced her fingers over mug and felt the steam move between them.

Carol swallowed a yawn. She was tired. She was glad to see her friends but they had descended on her uninvited. Apparently the village was a buzz that a Sorcerer's trail had appeared. It was hard for Carol to deny when it led to her door.

"He doesn't just want the ink," Fury broke the silence. He was looking at Carol who was watching Goose stretch in the sunlight. "He wants you on his side."

"He can't have her-" Talos stared but Soren looked at him with a raised brow.

"Talos," Soren warned. "You do not get to make those decisions."

Carol smiled sadly. They didn't know her name had been in His Book. She could tell them. All their names had been there once too. Except she was ashamed. Ashamed that she had been seduced by power.

"If you put your name in that book," Talos looked at her deeply. Carol forced herself to hold his gaze. He wanted to warn her. To prepare her. He didn't know. "You serve an unforgiving master. He can call on you at anytime. You have to fight for him or he can take your magic."

"What has been given can be taken away," Fury chimed in. Carol chewed her cheek. She had eight letters she reminded herself.

"And he will have you seduce others born with magic. He means to collect it and bind it all together. He wants to control what is our birthright-" Talos was getting heated again, Soren stood and closed the distance between them. Talos' tirade trailed off as he looked into his wife's eyes. Soren took his face in her hands and brushed her thumbs over his lips.

"She knows, Beloved. We all know," she said softly. Carol felt the shimmer of shared magic. She wanted to understand the language that bonded them. To hear the spells that passed between their skin. She wanted to know because she was jealous. She shook her head to clear the tightness that had settled behind her eyes.

"We will leave you," Fury said straightening. He walked with a peculiar gait, one leg taking the lead as all legs must but there was a heft to the motion as if it must always be the same leg. "Send up smoke if you need us."

Carol stood and followed them to the door. She took a step out onto the flagstones. She felt each dip beneath her feet. She knew which stone held the meadow in its heart and which one held the mountain. It broke her heart they touched and found nothing in common between them.

Soren shivered in the night air and Talos lifted the hood of her cloak. He looped his scarf around her neck so it could not slip down as they walked over the village. In the moonlight Carol's garden was all blues and purples. The red was asleep for the night. She looked up and saw snow falling. It slid down the sides of her spell so she could still see the moon.

"When was the last time you left?" Fury asked lowly in her ear as Soren and Talos waved goodbye and walked hand in hand towards the gate. Carol jumped. She had been thinking of the moon.

"The Feast of Mabon," she smiled at him.

"Which year?" He raised his brow at her and walked backward down the path. He didn't wait for her answer. They all knew what year.

The spell closed behind them and everywhere Carol turned she could see the illusion of the meadow. It was eternal spring there. As the spell arched upwards the illusion faded and it became nothing more than an invisible umbrella sheltering her. She could still see the stars. She knew when to make it rain for the plants and she knew the phase of the moon. Sunset was lost to her and sunrise. No more ends and no more beginnings.

It was chill but Carol barely felt the cold if she kept her eyes on springtime. The moon was full. She was alone. She followed the woodchip path to her little stone hearth. She crouched and wrapped her arms around her knees. She tilted her head to one side. She saw the small flutter of snow making shadows in the moonlight. She reached out and stroked the bricks.

"Aren't you cold?" She asked. "Wouldn't a fire be nicer?"

She made the suggestion to the hearth. She felt the cinders bristle but she kept stroking the bricks thinking how nice it would be to share a fire. The old coals in the sandy bowl started to glow. She smiled and stood.

She unlaced her breeches and let them puddle around her legs. She stepped out if them and kicked them into the cabbages. Her shift fell free and brushed just above her knees. She spread her arms and turned in a circle. Her feet churned up the smell of wood. Burnt, fresh and decaying. They all existed packed around the little hearth. Each stage of life in harmony. She bunched her hands in her shift and began to pull it over her head.

"Sweet talking fires and dancing naked? I taught you better than this," his voice echoed against the edges of her spell. Carol whirled around. The gate was closed. The snow that had blown in after Fury was already beginning to melt.

"Show yourself," she shouted. She wrapped her arms around her even though she was still in her shift.

"No tricks, Vers," he said emerging from the slope of her roof. "I was merely waiting for the others to leave."

He was wrapped in his cloak. He walked slowly. His words seemed carefully chosen. She shivered even as the fire bit her legs. He was crossing the garden to her and she was letting him.

"What did you hear?" She asked. He shrugged and grimaced.

"Everything and nothing," he tilted his head to take her in. Her hair was so gold the moonlight seemed blue against it. "They do not know your name is in His Book."

"Was in His Book," she corrected him. She moved from foot to foot. She was cold now. He sighed as he looked at her. With a hiss he shook off his cloak and wrapped it around her. He was too close to her as he slung his arms over her. It was warm from his body and smelled of sacred wood. She didn't think to protest.

As he pulled away she saw the burn. She grabbed his wrist so he had to stay were she could see. It was over his heart.

"Did I-?" She reached for him. He caught her wrist so they were standing with their arms in a circle. Each with a hand holding a wrist.

"No," he said the word quickly.

"Did you come here for help?"

"You sent me back empty-handed," he tugged her a little closer with the flick of his wrist. She gave him a withering look.

"Did Goose let you in again?" She let go of his wrist and started back towards the cottage. She brushed past him and he turned with her still holding her wrist. "I am telling her you killed Mar-Vell. This nonsense has to stop."

She tried to charge back to the cabin but Yon-Rogg pulled her back. "Don't tell her. You must stop thinking of death as the end. It is not the same for us as it is for others on this plane. You are a young wi-"

Carol bristled. Yon was always throwing that in her face. "Fine, then I won't worry about healing you."

"Heal me," he growled tugging her back again. He felt so strong but she could feel the weakness threaded through. "You want to languish here in anonymity, Vers? No more to them than a healer? Then heal me."

She stepped closer to him. She could smell the magic that burned him. It smelled of sour fruit. And musty books. Beneath was the smell of Yon-Rogg's magic, campfire and sealing wax. "There is nothing more important than a healer."

"Show me," he said it lowly with a dark look in his eye.

"Just this once," she relented. "And only because it is a full moon."

He released her and she led them back to the cabin. She opened the door and shrugged off his cloak. She turned to put it on the peg but hers was already there. She had forgotten this one was his. She carried it and hung it on the back of the chair. Goose lifted her head from were she lay in the sunbeams.

"I hope you are happy," Vers hissed at her. The cat merely lay back down. Vers turned to Yon-Rogg who had moved in front of the fire. She crossed to him. "Let me see."

She reached for the fastenings of his waistcoat. He caught her instead. He had a dark look in eyes as he looked about the small one room cottage. "Has a man ever been here?"

"To the cottage? Of course, don't be silly."

"No, as I am here. As a man."

"I thought you were here to be healed?" She arched and eyebrow at him. She smoothed open his shirt and touched the ragged skin below. "If you are asking after my maidenhead then you should listen more carefully to the village gossip. Don't you know I walk on rooves at night and go down bachelors' chimneys?"

She should be embarrassed to talk about these sorts of things, but she wasn't. Not with Yon-Rogg who had been, before his deception, her teacher. They shared things, without shame or judgment, because every piece of yourself was a tool magic could use. Even the pieces you gave away.

Virginity was no more interesting a fact than having an eleventh toe. Except maybe you could be counted on to charm beasts a little better or might be the one best suited to repair boots in cold weather. Their bodies belonged to only themselves and yet could be molded to the service of everyone else.

Unless she became like Yon-Rogg and served only herself. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. The way he was looking at her made her forget the task at hand. Across his chest was a whirling purple mark. The skin was split like a plum that fell too late and broke on stones.

"I would kill anyone who touched you," he said softly. So low she could pretend she didn't hear it. He brushed her hair behind her ear when it fell in her eyes.

"I need something orange," she murmured her fingers lingering against the wound. She looked down at the cat winding between their legs. "Not you."

She walked to the door, picking up her basket and his cloak.

"Where are you going?" He asked. He was lit by the low glow of the fire.

"I need things. Put the kettle on," she nodded to the heavy iron kettle. It was on a swinging arm so she could move it easily on and off the fire. As she opened the door she heard the gear creak like dry violin strings.

She moved quickly in the garden wary that she had left Yon-Rogg in her house. She whistled to the nasturtiem vine so it met her down the path. She plucked it quickly. Filling her basket with the bruised flowers.

Yon-Rogg was still by the fire when she returned. She did not look at him as she began to stuff the orange flowers into the kettle. Steam rose and the sting of pepper filled the air. She straightened and wiped her brow.

"This was not what I meant," he said to her as she tapped her fingers on the brick, waiting.

"Healing is stronger if the spell takes time," she said still not looking at him.

"Your magic is stronger than this, as my Blood Wit-"

"Don't call me that," she snapped. "I am not your anything. You cannot knit us through deception."

"We are. You feel it at night. In your dreams."

Carol leaned over the fire, his cloak trapped the heat and sweat ran down her back. She should take it off but she feared looking like a child throwing a tantrum. She reached for calm. Goose leaned against her shin.

"The only thing I feel at night is the weight of your lies."

Beside her hands a flower bloomed from the brick. She ignored it, but Yon-Rogg saw it. He reached out and brushed one finger over the blue petals. Carol quivered as if he had touched a secret place in her. He saw that too. Three more blossoms dripped. Yon-Rogg smiled triumphantly.

"That is not the weight you feel," his voice groaned into her. It rolled like pebbles down her spine, each one making her belly heavy.

"Lie down," she nodded to the floor. Yon-Rogg looked at the bare wood with a cocked head. He trailed his finger through the air and Carol felt the cloak slither off her shoulders. It spread warm and plush in front of the fire. She ignored him as he sat. She moved the kettle off the heat. She turned her hand like a cup and tilted the boiling water into it, a faint orange tinge swirl in the invisible glass. She held it to the light and considered the colour. She kept it hovering in her hand and emptied Talos' mug from where it sat on the mantle. She poured the water in. 

"Drink this," she handed him the mug and he took it suspiciously. He sipped and grimaced. Carol took her basin and poured the remaining water in. She scooped out the wilted petals and carried them to the table. She let it cool a little as she mashed in honey and barley.

"Are you healing me or making breakfast?" Yon-Rogg called out to her. Carol glanced over her shoulder and saw Goose had jumped into his lap. He was petting her thoughtlessly and Carol made a disgusted face.

"Don't help," she answered and she didn't know if she meant her words for him or Goose.

She carried the bowl and bandages to him and knelt. She shooed Goose away as Yon-Rogg stripped his shirt and waistcoat. The only sign Carol was aware that so little stood between their skin touching was the creeping vines that had been twirling up the fireplace. She put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back so he reclined on his elbows.

She soaked a cloth in the water and began to wash the wound. It sizzled as the water hit it. Yon-Rog's muscles tensed but he made no sound.

"Will you tell me what happened?" She asked as small tendrils grew from his wound, black and thorny. She plucked them out and threw them in the fire where they popped and wheezed like blood-filled ticks. Only Evil leaving the body.

"I won't," he growled. Goose came to nuzzle beneath his clenching hand.

"Are we in danger?" She hesitated as she mixed the poultice more.

"Always," he hissed as she pressed the orange and yellow mash into his wound. "This won't be enough. The magic that struck me-"

"There is more power in the growing of a vine from a seed than in your body or mine," Carol interrupted. She leaned over him to wrap the bandage. Her hair fell forward and their breaths intermingled.

"I have not shown you how powerful I can be," he murmured pushing her hair behind her ear. She moved away from him quickly.

"Get dressed, I am done," she wiped her hands on the cloth. The smell of warm spice and honey was thick. He sat a little higher, groaning at the pain and reached for her.

"Vers-"

"Talos calls it a seduction," she said bluntly. "When one magic user gets another to sign their name. It isn't real."

"Don't say that name to me," he growled. His hand swooped out and tangled in her hair. He tugged and rolled her beneath him. Carol whimpered as he dug his hand into her scalp.

"I heal you and you hurt me? Is this balance, Yon?" She tilted her head to relieve the pressure.

"Don't invoke balance to me, Vers," he growled. "Not when your resistance upsets the scales."

She tried to tense away from him but even injured he was strong. She feared beginning a battle she could not win.

"You killed Mar-Vell and then came to me as a friend. I trusted you and you betrayed me. Balance was never in our favour."

"I had to," his grip eased as she grimaced. His other hand traced her cheek. Why did he have to make the ancient magics in her shudder? Why was he the one who made her feel powerful? She despised him.

"No, you didn't."

"I did. He summoned me. It was Mar-Vell or my magic," his eyes pleaded with her to understand.

"You do not deserve it if you must kill to keep it."

"You cannot understand," he let go of her, reaching for his shirt. Had his vulnerability final worn away at him?

"What is there to understand?" Carol sat up. Goose ran to her. She scooped her up and kissed her ears. Whispering reassurances.

"You were born with magic. I was born as a vessel for another's. My birthright came at a cost you could not imagine."

Carol thought of Mar-Vell's desperate work to pull her name from His book. Her insistence that she needed Carol. Was she always to be passed between those who held magic but did not possess it? She let go of Goose and let her run away.

"No, I cannot. So stop coming to me and asking for things I cannot give," she made to stand but he pulled her down again.

His fingers traced her collar and he moved her shift aside. He could see from the curve of her collar bones all the way to the slope of her breasts. His eyes traced the constellation of black freckles there.

"Tell me what colour your eyes were before the magic?" She asked softly. She wanted one tender piece of him to make sense of the feelings she could not swallow. Lily of the valley began to spring from the floorboards, chasing Goose and her watching eyes away.

"I have been told green but in truth I don't remember," he answered her. His voice was low and settled under her skin. He ran his fingers over the speckles and she shivered. Her eyes drifted to his mouth.

"You swallowed it?" His voice held a little bit of awe as he pulled each freckle to the centre of her chest.

"The name is mine to swallow," Carol could barely breathe with the sensation of cold ink moving beneath his hot finger.

"It will hurt if he pulls it out of you," Yon-Rogg observed.

"If? I thought it was a certainty?" She closed her eyes as his finger moved. From the blotch at the centre of her sternum he traced an eight pointed star.

"To remove it should have been impossible. Swallowing it should have killed you. How can I be certain of anything?" His hand cupped her cheek and he leaned towards her. Around them like frogs from a flood flowers sprung and blossomed.

Outside snow began to fall.


	4. Lie Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one is GHOSTS ARE REAL!  
Posting this a little late but it is still technically Halloween somewhere
> 
> I am very tired so the editting is specious.
> 
> 💙💜💚❤DH

They were lost. Yon-Rogg didn't want to admit it but Vers could read it in the set of his shoulders. The minute movements of his wrist as he scanned the area. This world was unlike any Vers had been on yet. It was cool and quiet, dark trees twisted from soft brown earth. The canopy above had sparse green leaves shaped like diamonds. There were holes where the night sky could be seen. Leaves had fallen and collected in undulating heaps that crunched and rustled.

They had dropped down with their whole team but they had split up. They were looking for a downed craft whose signal had reached Hala. There were Kree in distress. Vers thought it would be easier. Even their Commander seemed on edge. Suspicious. It was rare that Yon-Rogg underestimated anything.

"Can you see the signal?" She asked jogging ahead so they fell into step together. The blue of his scanner lit Yon-Rogg's face from beneath in eerie relief.

"It keeps jumping," he answered tilting his wrist so the display widened and spilled in front of her. The topographical map of the area had spiked pyramids instead of trees. She could see the blinking light that was them surrounded by a world of blue geometry. The red pulse they were meant to be finding was throbbing on the path just in front of them.

Vers glanced up and the winding path was empty.

"Watch," Yon said lowly and Vers wondered what he thought would hear them. He took a step forward and the orb bounced a little down the path.

Both their heads snapped up but there was nothing ahead. Vers turned in a circle but could see nothing.

"Are we certain it is one of ours?" Her eyes saw shapes in every gnarled trunk, her uneasiness summoning Skrulls from the woods.

"Kree technology cannot be faked," Yon-Rogg assured her. At that moment their comm channels popped in their ears.

"Commander, Att-Lass and I have located the beacon but we don't have a visual."

Vers looked up at Yon-Rogg. Even he could not hide the small crease of his brow furrowing. He opened his mouth but another voice chimed in.

"Recalibrate your scanner. We have located the beacon," Korath's voice rasped down the line. Yon-Rogg lifted the comm slowly to hie mouth. His eyes never left Vers as he willed her to stay silent and let him handle it.

"Korath, do you and Bron-Char have eyes on the craft?" Yon's voice was even and slow.

"We will soon, Commander," Korath answered confidently. "It is just ahead."

Vers and Yon-Rogg turned with the scanner to look ahead of them again. The blue light lit the surrounding trees and leaves. The light still beat like a heart. Except it was red, Vers thought. A ruby instead of a sapphire.

"I want everyone to turn on their beacons and do not approach any crafts until we reassemble," Yon-Rogg ordered. Small pinholes of light burtst on the periphery of his scan. Four, one for each of them. "Stay close, Vers."

She felt a chill knowing he was nervous. They could only continue down the path. Around them the wind rustled and there was a bird sound. Vers could not shake the feeling they were being watched.

"Maybe we should try in the day?" She suggested as the night came close around her. It seemed like a fool's errand to hunt around in the dark.

"The red means there is an injury," Yon-Rogg's voice was serious. "They are waiting for us, Vers. We cannot delay."

She nodded and they continued to walk even as she became more certain what Yon-Rogg saw on the scanner was not as the place was.

They walked further and deeper into the wood. The trees grew taller and the limbs twisted thickly together. Vers kept her eyes on the trees. The path narrowed until they had to walk single file.

"Help me," a small voice whispered in Vers ear. It belonged to a woman. She turned so quickly her feet became tangled in a tree root and she started to fall. Yon grabbed her and braced her.

"Watch your step," he admonished as she straightened. She grit her teeth and kicked on the comm with a hard jab.

"Who said that?" She demanded down the line. She knew she had heard the crackle of an open comm.

"What are you talking about, Vers?" Yon asked carefully.

"I heard it too," Att-Lass agreed.

"As did I," Bron-Char agreed.

"Heard what?"

"It was a woman," Vers clarified. "Minn-Erva?"

Minn-Erva snorted, "I am not one for practical jokes."

"Don't you care?" The voice sobbed.

"Cut that out," Vere growled into her comm but the channel was closed and no amount of engaging or slapping would open it again.

Yon-Rogg grabbed her wrist to stop her slamming her hand down again.

"Vers, we need to keep moving," there was unshakeable conviction in his voice.

Vers shivered even though she wasn't cold. It all felt so hopeless she wanted to cry.

"No one cares about this ship," her voice was cold.

"I care, Vers, and we will find it."

He moved forward, the trees grew so tight he had to shoulder his way through.

Vers fell further and further behind. She was so tired. She was never this tired. Or this cold. She shouldn't be cold in her armour. She kept glancing around.

"No one is coming," the voice continued. She knew now it was coming from her. She was the one alone. She looked about and could no longer see Yon-Rogg.

She stopped. She was all alone.

From the corner of her eye she saw a figure moving. Glowing blue. Yon-Rogg's scanner was visible through the trees. She took off after him. Her feet slid under her as she charged up a rolling slope. Leaves scattered and she hit the ground hard.

Her ribs ached. They shouldn't ache through her armor. The darkness growing and deepening so that soon nothing existed beyond the reach of her hand.

She continued to climb and at last she reached the top. The blue glow was so much farther away. Yon-Rogg was leaving her behind.

* * *

Yon-Rogg could only see the red light in front of him. His world had narrowed to it. For some reason it reminded him of Vers' heart, pulsing and jumping on the monitor when he first saved her. A heart he watched slowly turn to blue. He felt like it was her he was saving all over again. That whoever sent out the distress call was like Vers. And they needed him.

There were trees that were not on his scanner. They scraped him as he forced his way through the dense wood. He felt something was deeply wrong. That he was being misled. As he watched the red beacon he saw another white light appear beside it. Vers' beacon was ahead of him.

He turned quickly and saw nothing but darkness behind him. Vers was no longer following. He looked back at the scanner and saw her small pinhole of light be swallowed by the swelling red beacon.

Yon-Rogg began to run.

* * *

Vers couldn't see where she was going. Her vision narrowed to the flickering of Yon-Rogg through the trees. She wanted to call out to him but her throat choked at the thought.

"No one is coming," the voice whined. There was panic in it that Vers felt. "They don't care."

"He cares," Vers croaked out loud. She did not know why she was in an argument with herself but she knew Yon-Rogg would not leave her.

"He doesn't," lamented the voice.

Vers opened her mouth to correct it when her foot slid out from her again and suddenly there was no ground beneath her feet.

She landed in cold water under a dense layer of leaves. She stood and the water ran down her body. She felt it collect in the small vents and rivets of her gear. It only came to above her knees. She couldn't see in front of her. She straightened her arm and engaged her wrist light. The beam glittered off the water. All around her were bobbing leaves. The light petered out ten feet ahead. She began to wade feeling the slick bottom of the pond churn beneath her feet. Every brush against her made her flinch. She knew where the shore was because that was where the glowing blue light hovered.

Her light jittered and shorted until it was dark again. She hit the side of her wrist hoping it would turn on again. Just like the comm it was dead.

She did not know how long she walked but from the darkness something hulking rose. It was no more than dense blackness. A shadow in the dark. Vers leaned forward and touched the sloping sides. She knocked on it and it echoed. A hollow din. Metal.

It was a ship. She had found the ship. She pounded on it and called out to whoever was inside. All she heard back was the dull ringing of her own fists.

"They're all gone and he isn't coming back."

"He is coming," Vers insisted as she ignited her fists. She found the edge of the door and blasted it open. Water spewed in, washing the small entry ramp with sludge and leaves. Vers climbed up, the air inside was rancid and stiff. It smelled of animal sweat long seeped into the vents and panels.

"Hello?" Vers called out. She was hesitant to use her powers. She could not justify to the Supremor why she would need to rest and recharge after a simple rescue mission, but with her light not working she had no choice. She allowed the power to surge enough her hands glowed. It was not enough to light the hall but it felt less lonely.

She walked towards where the cockpit should be. Yon-Rogg had said there was an injury. Did she have the wrong ship? She held her hands against the walls. In some places there were long scratches. In others there seemed to be tally marks.

"This can't be the end," the voice said. Closer now. It was echoing in the ship. Vers whirled but around her was nothing but the shadowy hall.

"Is someone here?" She asked. When she turned around again she thought she saw a shadow move. Vers took off after it. The ship must have been a full sized cruiser because she seemed to run for too long. Each hallway began to look like one another. It was making her dizzy. She stopped and leaned against the wall. She hung her head back and felt the blood rush in her ears. She could feel panic beginning to take hold.

"Aren't you tired?" The voice asked sweetly. She was tired. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to find a bunk and curl up there. She shook her head. The cockpit. She needed get there.

"Nothing good is that way," the voice whispered as Vers forced herself to focus and push through the darkened halls.

"You have been this way before," Vers could not tell if this was a thought that came from her. It welled up unnaturally from somewhere in the space between her lungs.

She increased the power flowing through her and carefully scored a mark into the wall.

* * *

Yon-Rogg was sweating and his heart was pounding. He had to get to her. He cursed himself for losing her. How could things have gone so poorly?

He tried to engage the comm but all it did was click futilely in his ear. His rage was building. At least the beacon was now staying in one place and he was closing in on it.

As he jogged through the bracken he caught sight of something moving beside him. A shadow. A dense solid blackness that seemed to reflect his movements. He skidded to a stop to try and see what it was.

It disappeared. He turned his head scanning what he could see of the trees that were illuminated by the beam from his scanner.

As his head turned back to the place he first saw the shadow, blackness enveloped him.

* * *

Vers was panting as she bent forward. She had been running trying to find the cockpit. There were now six marks on the wall.

"What do you want?" She screamed in frustration. She pounded a fist on the wall and the ship groaned.

"I want him to come," the voice answered. It hissed from the seams between the panels.

"He is coming," Vers insisted. She knew he was. She turned and slid down the wall, her hands digging into her hair. She shouldn't have left she was so stupid for leaving and now look what happened. He would never come for her.

She shook her head trying to clear the thoughts that clung to her. Yon would come. She couldn't give in to the hopelessness that was burrowing into her chest. They had been separated. That was all. Her beacon was on. He would come for her.

The darkness squeezed tighter around her. A new blackness. She felt even if she had a light it would not lift the shadow that was closing in around her.

She thought of Yon. She thought of his conviction. His words to her. He would not be mad at her for getting lost.

"Of course, he will be," the voice leaned over her. "He loved you and you left."

Vers covered her ears. The voice was the darkness playing tricks. Yon didn't love her. He was her mentor. He was her only friend. He would come for her.

"Why did you try and make him chase you?"

"I didn't," Vers shook her head. She couldn't think on it too hard. How badly she wanted his attention. How much it meant to her when he praised her. She wanted to make him proud, not to worry him.

"Did you think you could trick more love out of him? That he would walk away from everything to be with you?"

Vers felt guilt climb her ribs even as she fought the words with a shaking head. She never wanted to walk away. She never wanted to be other than they were. The way they were meant she saw him every day. It meant they shared everything. It meant she could re-learn her place in life.

None of this was true. This was something else. Something that was trying to trick her.

* * *

For the briefest second everything was black, then it passed and Yon-Rogg's chest ached. He had never been so desperate. He had lost her. She had been within his reach and he had been careless.

It was more than that, lost with her was everything their life could have been. A feeling so deep and formless it wanted to swallow him. He shook his head. He had to keep moving. He had a lock on her beacon now. He would find her.

* * *

Vers lifted her head and stared into the darkness.

"Why are you doing this?"

The voice was silent. She scoffed.

"This isn't me. What's in the cockpit you don't want me to see? Why does the beacon keep moving?"

These were the real questions. She pushed up from the wall. Her people were not superstitious. They did not believe in the unquantifiable. They did not believe in ghosts, curses or even something as immaterial as luck. They created miracles with science.

"This is a Kree ship," she announced. Her words echoed off the walls. She didn't know what she was talking to but she felt it quiver. "I know where I am going."

She kept one hand on the wall as she walked. The voice hissed at her but it was wordless. A heavy breathing in her ear. She followed the curve of the wall. When she reached what she felt should be the end, she reached out her hand and tugged open the door. It wheezed open and the pressurized cabin belched out the stench of death. Vers engaged her helmet so her air was filtered.

She walked in slowly, the cabin was lit by starlight. The blackness hovered in the hallway almost as if it was scared to proceed. Whatever had once been here was gone but something clung to the place. Vers approached the console. She placed her hands on it. She breathed in slowly. Then out. She channeled her power into the dash. She urged it to life again. The screen blinked on.

There was the image of a woman, frozen.

* * *

  
Yon-Rogg heard the crunch of leaves beneath his feet. He charged forward, aware that his scanner was not displaying the forest accurately. It was as if it thought his journey had begun in a different place but he didn't care. All he knew is he needed to save Vers and find the ship.

The ground was growing soft beneath his feet. The leaves as he stepped no longer crunched. He lowered the scanner and saw the glint of water. The ship was in the marshland.

He couldn't stop his feet from charging forward. The water splashed and rolled over his boots. He felt the muddy bank suction around him. This was wrong. Everything had been wrong.

Their equipment should be infallible. His mind should be clear. He should be in control but it was steadily slipping from his grasp. Even now he could not stop the forward momentum of his body. He could not stop picturing a future that could never be and mixed in was a past that had never happened. Forbidden embraces. The feeling of slipping away hand in hand. Something tender he wanted to nurture.

He had to get to her.

* * *

Vers realized from the angle what she was watching was the black box. The recording kicked in at the moment trouble began. Vers could see the confusion register on her face. Her hands began to move quicker. Readings were scrolling down one side of the screen. Meticulously recorded. Vers did not know many of the symbols but she knew pressure in the cabin was dropping. The woman was trying to right the ship but Vers could see by the jerk and sway of her body the ship was banking and dropping altitude too fast. The woman fell forward and Vers' stomach clenched as she saw the cabin lights flicker and the glyphs began blinking red.

The footage cut out.

The Kree ship had crashed here with only a single passenger. Vers wished Yon-Rogg had been there to explain what the glyphs said; to tell her what had happened. She leaned on the console and tried to remember what it was Korath had said on the journey here.

He and Bron-Char had been arguing. Vers closed her eyes and tried to remember what Bron-Char had said to set Korath off. Something about Soul Lakes. She could hear the scoff Korath had made in her head. Bron-Char had asked if anyone knew the stories of the Soul Lakes. That anyone who died in the water was made to re-enact their death for one thousand years. Korath had called them folklore. He had said mold in the lakes produced a hallucinogen. Was she hallucinating?

The console flickered on its own accord and began playing the footage again. Vers looked around and saw the black mist had crept in. It was swimming around her knees so she couldn't see her feet.

That was when the ship began shaking. Vers made a run for the door but it slammed shut. The cabin was tilting and water was rushing in.

"He isn't coming," the voice wailed.

"He is coming for me," Vers shouted back at the ship even as she slid backward into the console. The footage kept playing, an eerie backdrop to a dire situation. The black cloud was leeching out her hope and her focus as she tried to strategize. She ignited her powers to combat the dark that was all around. She clenched her fist and felt the surge. She may only have one opportunity. The shield was burying itself into the muck. She would need to blow out the roof.

She tried to aim even as her vision dimmed. She fired once. The bolt slammed into the roof with smell of ozone and scorched metal. She charged, ready to fire again.

* * *

The flicker of light drew Yon-Rogg's eye as he struggled to wade through the water.

Vers.

He moved faster, this time he controlled the drive. He heard the groan of metal and felt the vibration of something massive moving.

He knew from the scanner that Vers was on board but what was the ship doing? As he came closer he felt the water slap higher on his body as if it was being churned up. As he neared it he ran faster. He had to be calculated. He picked up speed and engaged his gauntlet at the moment he tried to jump. The soggy mud suctioned around him but he managed to fling himself high enough he could grip a fin on the ship. He hauled himself up and began to run along the top. The echo of his boots thundered and he could feel the ship driving forward and burrowing into the mud.

As he reached above the flight deck the metal grew red with heat and a hole was blown open in the exterior panels.

"Vers," he shouted.

"Yon," she called back. Her voice had an edge of panic that made him sick. He needed her. He felt the relief of generations. As if he had tried over and over. As if this moment was one he had been waiting for. He took long strides to the opening she had made, his boots slipping on the shaking metal.

"Yon, the ship-"

"I know," he looked down into the ship. "Can you jump?"

He could barely see her but he knelt and reached his hand down into the darkness. The ship shook his bones and he could hear the sound of water. Vers' boots slammed into the floor as she ran against the tilting. He felt her fingers brush his and then the sloshing echo of her landing.

This wouldn't work.

"It's getting pretty wet in here," she called up.

"Hold on," Yon-Rogg stepped back and engaged his gauntlet. He aimed it at Vers. The cabin filled with a green light. She floated up, around her a constellation of water droplets. He reached for her as she neared the edge. He disengaged his gauntlet as he snatched for her waist, hauling her backwards. She fell on him as they toppled backward. The water fell like rain over the ship.

"I knew you would come," she said softly looking down at him. She never looked at him like this. He wished he could see the expression in her eyes better as she touched his cheek. He pushed up on his elbow and slid his hand behind her head.

"I knew you would find trouble," he answered. He kissed her. His mouth pressed against her lips, warm and soft. She felt like she could fall forward into him even as the plating of his armour pushed back.

She opened her mouth and she felt his tongue move against her lip before finding the tip of hers. She made a small sound as she breathed out around the sensation of finally kissing him.

He pulled away with a sharp intake of breath. As if he had woken up. He looked at her panicked. She nearly winded him in her eagerness to get off him.

The ship had stopped moving. In fact all seemed peaceful in a way it hadn't a moment ago.

"There are hallucinogens in the water," Vers stuttered. Yon-Rogg nodded. He seemed dazed.

He looked up, unable to look at her. The sky above was purple with the dawn.

* * *

The others were waiting for them when they reached their transport. Everyone seemed soaked and bedraggled.

"Everyone alright?" Yon-Rogg called as they approached. "Looks like the signal was a false alarm."

The teams nodded and made non-commital sounds.

"Did anything happen out there?" Yon-Rogg asked as he opened the transport. Vers couldn't help noticing the looks shared by the partners.

"Nothing," Korath grumbled as he boarded the transport.


End file.
